Stars Abloom with Flowers
by MandaPanda2
Summary: Happy. Stars. Promise. Always.
1. April 2, 2034

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.  
Rating: T  
Genre: Supernatural  
Spoilers: Everything through Olivia on the cruise, then it quickly dances into AU territory.  
Summary: Happy. Stars. Promise. Always.

* * *

 _If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are abloom with flowers._ – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

* * *

 _April 2, 2034_

"I've got an eight year plan."

Trey looked up from the stack of documents in his lap. "Eight years, hmm? At the moment, I've only got a one _week_ plan and that's to make it through the confirmation hearing and vote."

Mitch sighed and rapped his knuckles on the mid-century coffee table. "Focus here, Armando!" Trey rolled his eyes and turned back to the briefing. Mitch had been a close friend since their undergraduate days at Cornell. He was the only one who got away with calling him by his legal first name. "Here's how it goes: all your time at the State Department has paid off and you're going to be confirmed as the next United States Ambassador to the Court of St. James. You serve two years, just in time for President Booker's re-election. Serving in that post puts you in a prime position to be named Secretary of State in his second term."

He looked up slowly. Mitch was sitting tall and puffed up like a proud peacock as Nan would've said. It was time to bring him back to reality. "That's only six years. What about the other two?"

"You're going to step down as Secretary before the midterms. You're going to run for Congress right here in the Virginia Tenth." Trey nodded, feigning serious interest, as Ashley sat up and beamed. "Then, we start laying the ground work for you to be named Veep in '44."

Silence. "Vice President?"

"Then, President in '48. Or '52."

Trey burst out laughing as he turned back to the profiles of the committee members. "I'm not running for President."

"Of course you are, man!" Mitch exclaimed. "It's in my plan."

"What about what _I_ want?"

He nodded and sat up, cupping his knees. "Ok. Tell me what _you_ want. Lay it on me."

With a sigh, he leaned back in the chair and began, "I think I might like to be a law professor after I finish serving as ambassador. Not at Cornell though. It's too damn cold in Ithaca. Besides, Hadley wants to raise the kids here in Virginia."

"Law…professor?" he repeated in disbelief. Trey glanced over and tried not to chuckle at the crestfallen expression on Mitch's face. When he turned to Ashley, he saw she was just as disappointed. "Trey, that's- that's a _waste_."

"No, no. Think about it. They love me over at Foggy Bottom and I know they'd snap up a former ambassador in a heartbeat."

"But, Trey-"

"Hadley and I have already discussed it. We want a life outside the Beltway. I'm committed to serving as ambassador for three years and then we're coming home." The mere thought gave him pause. Liv would be eight then. The new baby would be three and most likely a hell raiser the way Liv had been at that age. "Taking up residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue isn't in our plans."

"But, Trey-"

He looked up sharply, his brow furrowed as he pushed the profiles away. "Let it go, Mitchell."

With a reluctant nod, he looked away and reached for the stack of papers on the coffee table. "Fine," he said curtly. After a perfunctory glance through the documents, he asked, "So, I guess the only thing we have left to talk about then is your opening statement."

"Oh! Don't forget you have to talk about your grandmother," Ashley piped up.

Trey looked over. "How come?" He stood slowly, shaking loose his suddenly clenched fists.

"Remind them your grandmother was British. That you spent your summers with her in London or wherever. It'll help the senators see you've got a _personal_ understanding of the very special relationship between the U.S. and the U.K."

"Good call, Ash." Mitch turned back to Trey, his face animated. "Wasn't she a duchess?"

Trey shook his head as he moved to the open window, gazing intently through the glass. The sun filtered through budding leaves on the trees in the yard, scattering it into thin beams. "Baroness for about a week," he replied quietly, "and then a countess. Colin's peerage was upgraded on New Year's Eve 2000." He could hear Liv's enthusiastic giggle as she kicked a soccer ball to Hadley. Pop sat on the wooden bench with a blanket drawn over his knees as he encouraged her from the sidelines. He turned back to them, his hands deep in his pockets. "We agreed the opening statement for the hearing was mine to craft. I'll talk about what I want." When Ashley exchanged a tentative glance with Mitch, he cleared his throat. "Guys, I've _got_ this."

Mitch nodded, but he could see the disagreement in his eyes. "You got it, chief," he replied flatly. He stood and gestured for Ashley to follow. "I think we'll break for now. Give you back your Saturday afternoon with the family. Tomorrow though, I'm bringing the team over to hold the mock session of the committee."

He grimaced. "You make a _terrifying_ Rand Paul."

Mitch chuckled and said, "I've been practicing my southern accent with Hadley. A Kentucky accent isn't _that_ different from Virginia."

"Only a Yankee from Rye would think the cadence of a Virginian is the same as a Kentuckian." He nodded at Ashley and waited until she left the study. "You really think I need to talk about Nan?" he asked quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

He sighed and shrugged. "Our sources say the committee confirmation is already wrapped up. But, the full vote is a concern because-"

"I'm young and I've never served as an ambassador before."

"Yes. A few senators have…reservations. Some extra reassurance about your personal connection to England could quiet those concerns."

He nodded thoughtfully and watched as Mitch picked up his briefcase and left. With a deep exhale, he rubbed his face and sank into the large leather chair behind his desk. When he lowered his hands, his eyes fell on the line of framed photos. He moved slowly over them, memories pulsing from deep within the core of his soul. One from his wedding day, Hadley's long veil floating on the wind as they embraced by the lake. One of Hadley and Liv from their latest visit to Sunset Beach, the sunlight glistening on the waves behind them. He sat up and reached for the one sitting inconspicuously next to the photo of him with Mom and Dad on the day he was sworn in at the State Department. It was a photo of him with Nan and Pop when he graduated from Cornell Law School. He remembered Mom took the picture with her iPhone on that cold winter day.

" _Hurry and take it, Caity," Nan urged, her teeth chattering together as they stood in the quad after the commencement ceremony._

" _Cold, Liv?" Pop teased._

" _Don't start, Gregory." She glanced up at Trey and winked as he hugged her close, rubbing her shoulder._

"Help, Daddy!"

He dropped the framed picture to his desk as he spun around to the window. Liv's small face peaked over the sill as she reached in through the open window. He smiled and rolled over, his hands beneath his daughter's arms as he helped her climb through the window. She scrambled into his lap, her little knees pressing into his thighs. "Are you still working?" she asked with a deep sigh.

Trey shook his head. "Nope. I'm done for today."

Her blue eyes – _Nan's_ eyes – lit up as she excitedly clapped her hands. "Come play with me, Mommy, and Pop!" She slid off him and pulled his hands, coaxing him up. "Come on, Daddy!"

He picked up his daughter and wondered if he would ever _not_ marvel at the way she trustingly climbed onto his back, her little arms wrapped around his neck. "Sure thing, baby."

* * *

Gregory _detested_ his cane.

It was a weakness he could live without.

He leaned on the metal stick and ignored the fact that it was considerably easier to walk down the hallway to Trey's study now. His balance was better. His steps were less tentative. He didn't care. He _hated_ being weak. He hated being almost 84.

"I'll race you, Pop!" He looked up, a small grin on his face as Liv flew past him. Her long braided pigtails swung behind her as she scampered ahead of him and turned into Trey's study. She came back to the doorway and danced in a small circle. "I win!"

"You had a considerable advantage, young lady."

She looked at him quizzically as she tugged on the end of one of her braids. "What's a 'considerable advantage' mean, Pop?"

He chuckled and patted her head as he stepped into the study. Never before had he heard the word 'considerable' pronounced with such deliberate carefulness. At nearly five, Liv was whip smart. The child asked more questions than he could ever recall Caitlin, Sean, or Trey asking when they were her age. He chucked her chin as she looked up at him with wide eyes. "It means you're younger and faster than your old Pop."

She grinned and giggled. "You're old, Pop! Older than me, Mommy, _and_ Daddy!"

He nodded as Trey cleared his throat. "Pop, you might be the oldest, but I'll still demolish you on the chess board."

"Can I watch?" Liv asked as she skipped over to the tea table with the chess board on it. "I promise to be really _really_ quiet now!"

"Course you can, baby," Trey said as he held out his chair for him. "Come on, Pop. Get ready for the game of the week."

As he sat down slowly, he felt Trey's hand come around to his arm, steadying him as he lowered himself to the chair. "I want Pop to win today," Liv announced as she climbed into his lap. She turned and looked up, her sweet smile reminding him so much of Olivia that his heart skipped a beat. He had no doubt that Olivia would've been absolutely delighted by her namesake. "Daddy won last time, so Pop should win today. Because that's fair."

Trey chuckled and met his eyes from across the board. "Pop's never been one for fair, baby. Winners win and that's that."

Gregory chuckled as Liv snuggled back against him and his arm went around her, holding her close. "Fair is fair, Trey. After all, who am I to argue with the brains of the family?"

His son shook his head and stared down at the board, focusing intently. Since he sold the house in Sunset Beach and moved in with Trey and Hadley, this had been their Saturday tradition. These quiet afternoons over the chess board in the study. While he had always been close to Trey, everything changed in the years since Olivia's death. Trey knew they were his parents. Their long overdue, but secret, relationship of father-and-son eclipsed their former relationship of grandfather-and-grandson. This was the second chance he desperately wanted for himself and Olivia. Years ago, he promised he would be better with the new baby and, though it had taken more than thirty years, he knew this was the best it was ever going to be. He and Trey talked about everything. Unsurprisingly, Olivia was a frequent topic of conversation. Her name was invoked so often that it felt as if she was still alive and living with them.

"Daddy, are you white or black today?" Over the last few months, Liv began to join them during the chess matches, though her interest never lasted for more than a few moments. Even now, she was already slipping out of his lap to sit on the floor, where a stack of coloring books and a plastic tub of crayons waited for her. She just wanted to be close to them. "I think you should be white."

"White it is then, baby."

He cleared his throat and leaned forward as Liv pulled an oversized pillow to the floor and lay down on top of it. "Are you ready for Monday?" he asked quietly as the scratch of Liv's crayon against the paper filled the background. Trey was going to Capitol Hill to be grilled by the Senate's Foreign Relations Committee. His son was all but guaranteed to be confirmed as the next ambassador to England. _England_. He couldn't help but smile. Olivia would've been over the moon with his latest accomplishment. The same way he himself was at the news.

"I think so," he whispered as he moved his pawn out. He sighed deeply and Gregory looked down, studying the board while he waited for him to continue. Several minutes went by and an easy silence stretched between them. Patience was something he learned to live with, indeed _embrace_ , in his old age. As his fingertips grazed his own pawn, he heard him finally murmur, "They think I should talk about Mom."

He nodded and looked up. Trey's face was anguished as he sat back and sighed again. "You don't want to?" he asked quietly. That was unlike him. He had been exceptionally close to Olivia.

"No. No, it's not that. I-" Their eyes met as he confessed in a whisper, "It just feels wrong to use her to win points with the senators. It's cheap."

He sighed and shook his head. "If she were here, _she'd_ tell you talk about her."

"Do you think?"

"Yes." He believed that with every fiber of his being. There was nothing Olivia wouldn't have done for their youngest child. "Come to think of it, she'd probably tell you _what_ to say. Talking about how close you two were is the truth. No one could fault you for that."

Trey sat quietly for a long moment before he leaned in. "And…there's no way- I mean, you said your friend took care to cover up everything, right?"

He instantly understood. Nobody investigated a person _quite_ like the federal government. That was the _real_ reason why he was reluctant to talk about Olivia at the committee. It would be covered by the media. It was a news story. People would hear their names. And, people might start to remember. The one thing Trey had always insisted on was Caitlin never knowing the truth. _She would be heartbroken. She-_ _they_ _were good parents to me. I can't- I_ _won't_ _take that away from them._ "You've already been vetted by the State Department. You have a security clearance. If that didn't uncover anything, the Foreign Relations Committee won't either during their background check." Morris more than came through for him though. There was no official record of the D.N.A. test which proved Trey was his and Olivia's. The contents of his safe deposit box would never be seen by anyone. The hospital technician had been paid off years ago.

"But, what about your second wife? What's-Her-Name?"

He sighed internally. "She still needs my money to fund her lifestyle in Palm Springs or wherever she's living these days. She won't talk. She knows she has too much to lose if she does." He pushed Annie from his mind and reached for his son's hand, squeezing it gently. "It's going to be fine, son. It _is_."

Trey cracked a half-smile and nodded. "I believe you, Dad."

He patted his son's hand before he sat back and folded his hands in his lap. As the younger man stared down at the board, he said nonchalantly, "Any day now, _Mr. Ambassador_."

Trey's eyes turned up slowly, a wry grin dancing on his lips. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

He nodded, feeling as if the pride coursing through him would burst beyond the confines of his flesh. What was it Olivia said to him years ago? It was on the first Christmas he had spent with her in nearly twenty years. _He's going to be fine. I feel it._ Of course, she had been right. She had been right about everything. He inhaled sharply as he looked up, feeling a tickle dance across the back of his neck. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Liv sit up and wave. He followed her gaze, finding no one in the doorway. A breeze rustled through the room, bringing with it the fresh smell of the newly blooming flowers which surrounded the house.

"Liv, who are you waving at?" He glanced back as Trey's question echoed in the quiet, but his eyes were riveted to his daughter.

The little girl turned around and shrugged. "I dunno," she murmured as she lay back down on her stomach. "I thought she was there…"

"Who? Mommy?"

But, the child didn't respond as she returned to her coloring book. Though Trey looked back at the chess board, Gregory kept his eyes on his little granddaughter. Her legs kicked lazily in the air, moving in time with the scratch of her crayon. A moment later, she glanced over her shoulder, a quizzical look on her face. Their eyes met and he saw the question dancing in her eyes.

* * *

Trey sighed deeply and looked up at the stars. He didn't realize how much he would enjoy living in the home that had been his wife's grandparents until they moved into it. The restored Georgian mansion was surrounded by acres of rolling hills and hickory trees, all but ensuring peace and quiet. After the hustle and bustle of living in D.C. for seven years, the solitude of McLean was a welcome change. It seemed almost a shame they'd be leaving it for the ambassador's official residence in Regent's Park.

"Why is it you _always_ go M.I.A. during bed time?"

He looked over as Hadley slipped onto the bench next to him and sighed. "Because," he began as he wrapped his arm around her, hoping he could talk his way out of this landmine, "Liv somehow gets more talkative in the ten minutes before she falls asleep than she was all day. It's…exhausting."

"Ha! How can _you_ be exhausted by it? _I'm_ the one who deals with her at bed time every night." She nestled against his chest as she replied, "You know, she fights sleep because she just wants to be up and awake with us and Pop."

Liv adored Pop. Of course, officially, Pop was her great-grandfather and the one time they explained what that meant, the concept confused her. In the end, explanations didn't matter to his daughter. She just loved her Pop and it was as simple as that. Liv and Pop spent their days together doing God knew what. But, whatever it was they did worked. The little girl was keeping Pop young. She kept him vibrant and active. "When she's a teenager, we're just going to bitch about her sleeping her days away."

She laughed softly as she rubbed his hip. "I'm sure. Luckily, that's still a few years away."

"Did you know she's going to be eight when we come back from London?" he asked, turning to her.

"Of course I do," she exclaimed as she sat up with a giggle. "I can do simple math, darlin'."

He sighed and looked back up at the starry night. "It seems like a lifetime away."

Hadley reached for his hand and pressed it to the crest of her stomach. "It'll go by in the blink of an eye," she murmured.

He sat quietly, feeling their unborn child move inside her. The first time he felt Liv kick, he ripped his hand away from her stomach, terrified at what he felt. There was a _real_ baby in there. His baby. Their baby. But after, he couldn't keep his hands off her stomach. With every turn and kick, he felt something grow within him. Excitement. Pride. Every moment was Christmas morning when he felt his child move within his wife. It was no different with this new baby.

"Hey. What's that face for?"

He glanced up. "What face?"

"That sloppy grin." She cupped his chin and turned his face even with hers. She beamed, flyaway red wisps spilling out from the pile of hair on her head. "Hmm?"

He shrugged, feeling the sloppy grin expand to a full-fledged one. "Just thinking about something Pop said to me a few years ago."

"What was that?"

He remembered the way the English sun felt when they stood in the field, the shadow of Lavenham Hall behind them. "That I had the life Nan always wanted for me."

Hadley nodded, her hand sweeping up to cup his cheek. "She loved you. She was always so proud of everything you did." She lay down, her head resting in his lap as her legs dangled over the arm of the bench. "And, wherever she is, she's happy for you."

He nodded, his hand firmly on her stomach as they looked up the night sky. "Happy," he whispered into the chilly night, feeling a warm current spread in his chest as the silent stars twinkled overhead.

* * *

Gregory shuffled out of the bathroom, his slippers squeaking on the polished maple floor. He hooked the cane to the post of the bed and sat on the mattress, sighing deeply. He glanced around. Partially filled moving boxes were abundant in the room. They only moved in in August right after Liv's birthday and now they were all moving to England just as soon as Trey was confirmed as the next ambassador.

"You hate the boxes, don't you?"

He squared his shoulders, the voice crystal clear in the room. "I don't love them." He glanced over his shoulder as Olivia laughed.

"You _hate_ them," she said insistently, leaning against the pillows. "Don't you remember when we moved into the house on Ocean Avenue?"

"My body may be failing, Liv, but I've still got my mind."

She smirked, her eyebrow arched as he slowly pushed himself onto the bed and up against the headboard. He only moved a handful of inches, but he was breathing as heavily as if he just finished fifty lengths in the pool. She patted his hand and scooted closer to him, waiting quietly until his labored breathing evened out. "You paid the movers double overtime to unpack the boxes and get them out of your sight."

"Money well spent," he grumbled, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. She smiled as his fingers threaded with her own and locked tightly. "I was ready for it to feel like our home."

She smiled quietly as she squeezed his hand. "I loved that house," she murmured as she leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. He turned, resting his chin on her head. "I thought it felt like home from the moment we walked into it."

He nodded and closed his eyes. The weight of her head on him now felt the way it did when she was alive. The feel of her hand and the sound of her voice was the same too. Of course, it didn't change anything. Olivia had been dead for years. But, she was still here with him. Still at his side. "Liv waved at you this afternoon," he said softly. She was quiet and he opened his eyes after several seconds. She was gazing down at the bed, the pale blue sheets a sharp counterpoint to his navy pajamas.

"I wasn't sure she would see me," she admitted in a whisper. She looked up slowly, her blue eyes wide she shrugged sheepishly. "After all, Trey never has."

He nodded as she pressed against him, her lips drawn in a thin line. She had been so upset the first time she went to Trey and he walked through her without even seeing her. He reached out and rubbed her thigh. "When I was his age, I wouldn't have seen you either." He was too young. Too focused on the living and what was right in front of him to focus on what was just beyond the edges of his vision.

Her head whipped around, an amused expression on her face. "Yet, all I can think of are all those times you couldn't keep your hands off me when you were his age."

He chuckled as she reached out, gently tucking his legs beneath the sheets. "Flesh and blood, Liv," he sighed as she drew the duvet over him.

She stood quietly and wandered over to the window of the ground floor room. He turned, watching the perfect line of her body as she folded her arms against her chest. It was only when he narrowed his eyes and sharpened his weak vision that he could see the pale and luminous glow surrounding her. He met her eyes as she said, "Liv won't remember seeing me."

He sighed, gazing up at the ceiling. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"She'll move to London in a few weeks. After something as exciting as that, she won't remember a woman she _thinks_ she saw in a house she'll barely remember."

He smirked and turned to her. "She's smarter than you give her credit for. She may be confused by what she saw, but she _won't_ forget it."

She smiled and he could feel the comfort his assurance brought her. She turned back to the window, her hands pressed against the sill. "He's happy though, isn't he?" He nodded, though the gesture was lost on her. "A new baby, a new job, a new home."

He didn't say anything. Then again, he didn't have to. Their children were fine and happy. All three of them. He watched her fingers dance against the window pane as a sigh rose in her throat. Whatever she saw in the yard sent a wave of peace throughout the room. "They remind me of us," she whispered as she turned her head to him. He felt a crooked smile on his face as she slowly traversed the distance between them. "It's a comfort, don't you think? That they have each other?"

He murmured his agreement as she climbed back into the bed and curled up against his chest. His eyes were heavy, but he forced them open and hugged her closer. He always savored these moments with her. Deep down, he wondered – _feared_ – if they would ever stop as mysteriously as they started. Life at this age was hard enough. He wasn't sure if he wanted to even _try_ to get through it without her.

"I'll always find you."

He smiled weakly, his eyes half-closed. "Promise?"

Her voice echoed in his mind, ebbing and flowing like the waves which crashed outside of the Ocean Avenue house. "I promise, darling." He felt her hand on his chest, her palm resting over his heart. "I'll always be with you."

He nodded, feeling his body slip away as he fell into sleep. Her voice lapped against his soul, the words of her promise a balm to his remaining days.


	2. February 8, 2041

(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

 _February 8, 2041_

Trey grimaced and leaned forward, scribbling a comment in the margin of his student's paper. "Jurisprudence is one word, _not_ two," he murmured, stabbing angry dots over the two Is. He folded the term paper closed and pushed it aside. With an exhausted sigh, he pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. All the law professors were required to teach one 1000-level course each semester. It was the class that _always_ caused him the most grief. Everyone had grand delusions about what it meant to be a lawyer. He opened his weary eyes and leaned back in his chair. He blamed his undergraduates' zest on all the legal procedural dramas available for consumption. The shows never showed how much reading and research went into the practice of law. As a result, most were disappointed with the amount of reading and writing his syllabus required.

His stomach grumbled and he glanced down at his watch. It was late. He had a headache. He usually stayed later in the evenings, waiting for the Beltway traffic to calm down before he attempted the drive home. It was barely eleven miles, but the short drive could turn exceedingly perilous and lengthy if he left his office at the wrong time. His watch chimed and he touched the screen, reading Hadley's text message. _Hurry home, birthday boy!_ He smiled and used his arm to sweep the term papers into his worn leather briefcase. He'd finish grading them over the weekend.

A cool breeze swept through his office and he looked up, blinking tiredly. Despite the ancient heating system in the law building, the occasional winter draft found its way in. He felt his body turn to stone as he looked at the ancient sofa pressed against the wall. Nan sat quietly. Saying nothing. Watching him. He sat up slowly, his mouth instantly dry as he dropped his briefcase to the floor. "Nan?" he croaked. It couldn't be. It just _couldn't_ be her. He worked through lunch and it was well past dinner. The hunger must be playing tricks with his mind.

But, then he _heard_ her.

Her lips parted, a gasp of surprise echoing in the silence, before her hands flew to her mouth. He shook his head as he stood slowly, gripping the edge of his desk. He couldn't dare trust his suddenly weak legs. She stood too, her hands falling from her face. His chest tightened as he blinked in disbelief and watched her lips curl into a smile. The glimmer of tears in her eyes was real, he realized. The fact that she was suddenly standing less than three feet away from him was real too. "Oh, darling boy," she sighed, her palm molded to his cheek. He _felt_ her hand on his face. He squeezed his eyes shut as he continued to shake his head. It had been more than ten years since he'd heard her voice. Since anyone had called him that…not even Pop. That was exclusively Nan's.

Trey wrapped his arms around her, feeling her body against his. Her floral perfume, the perfume he _always_ remembered her wearing, consumed him and he gasped. "H-how?" he finally managed to ask as he bent his knees and stooped slightly until their eyes were even. He still towered over her. "I-I don't…I don't understand how this is…possible."

Her only reply was a smile of contentment as she gazed up at him. Her eyes moved over him as if she needed to reacquaint herself with him. But she…she looked exactly the way he remembered her. She was without age, standing before him as if he hadn't attended her funeral more than a decade ago, gripping his wife's hand in the church. Here he was, on the wrong side of forty and feeling as confused as a child. "It just… _is_ ," she finally said and he closed his eyes again as her voice washed over him.

He hugged her back to him as he lowered his head to her shoulder. He heard her sniffle a moment before he felt her fingers combing through his dark blonde hair. His heart pounded in his ears as he stood in her embrace, her fingers brushing against his neck. Her throat vibrated as she spoke and he looked up slowly. "What?"

She shook her head guiltily, cupping his face in her hands. "I've waited so long for this," she repeated in a whisper, her blue eyes sparkling. His own chin trembled as she continued, "I've got you back…and on the very day I lost you all those years ago."

His birthday. Pop had told him the story about how he was kidnapped from her arms moments after he was born. He exhaled deeply, his eyes turning vacantly to the high ceiling of his office. "I'm the same age now as you were the day you gave birth to me," he thought aloud and she chuckled softly.

"Your father would say there's irony there."

He looked back at her, his expression sobering. "He's known about…you?" he asked, half-heartedly gesturing towards her. "For all these years?"

She nodded slowly as she reached for his hand. He was surprised by the warmth he felt in her touch. All the movies and stories promised ghosts would be cold. "Love doesn't die," she answered simply and he nodded. It was the worst kept secret in their family for decades that Nan and Pop still loved each other. Of course, the best kept one was that they were his real parents.

"You- you've been with me all this time?" he asked in a low voice. Her only reply was the way she gently squeezed his hand as she held his gaze. "You'll stay with me still, won't you, Mom?"

His heart rose in her throat as she replied, her voice thick, "Always, darling boy. Always."

He smiled through the tears, gripping her hand. She reached out with her other hand, brushing back the hair from his forehead. He closed his eyes as he felt a missing part of himself snap back into place.

* * *

Liv laughed aloud, her cheeks screaming with amusement. Dad was at the head of the table, his arm around Grandpa as they enthusiastically sang some song. At least Grandpa was singing in proper French, the way the song was _supposed_ to go. Dad was making up his own words. He was so weird! Funny…but weird. Across the table, she met Nana's gaze, who merely shook her head as she reached for her wine. But, Liv would see the smirk on her face. Ever since she could remember, Nana and Grandpa always came to visit on Dad's birthday. She liked it. Nana would brush her dark hair for a long time while she told her fairy tale stories. Dad and Grandpa always did funny things when they were together.

"Well done, boys!" Mom called out as they came to the rousing conclusion. She pushed the plate of cake away from three-year-old Maddie, who was presently shoving a fistful of frosting into her mouth. A smattering of applause went around the table as Patrick stood on his chair, pumping his arms victoriously over his head.

She rolled her eyes. Leave it to her little brother to act as if _he_ was the one who sang the song and deserved all the applause. He was _such_ an alien. "What did the song mean, Grandpa?" she asked as Dad clapped his shoulder and chuckled deeply.

He rubbed his face and began, "Well, sweetheart-"

"Cole!" Nana exclaimed as she glared at Grandpa. She turned back to her and smiled, her pale blonde hair pulled back. "Grandpa will tell you when you're older. _Much_ older."

"Thank God," Dad explained as he shoved a mouthful of cake into his mouth. "That's a conversation I could do without tonight." She frowned. They always treated her like she was a baby. But, she wasn't! After all, she was going to be twelve this summer!

"Yes, indeed," Mom added as she glanced down at her watch. She turned to her, smiling. "Liv, be my sweet girl and go check on Pop."

She nodded and jumped up from the dining room table. Nana helped poor Pop to his room after Dad blew out the candles on his birthday cake. She was sad for Pop. His doctors were so mean! They wouldn't let him eat dessert anymore and he had to take a handful of pills every morning when he woke up _and_ every night when he went to bed. It didn't seem fair to take all that medicine and _still_ not be able to eat dessert. But, last year, when he turned 90, she snuck him a small piece of his chocolate birthday cake.

 _"Thank you, Liv," he smiled as she kneeled next to him, holding the plate. He reached out, his hand trembling as he chucked her chin. "This is the best present."_

She ran down the hallway, her sock-clad feet slipping and sliding on the polished hardwood floor. She held out her arms, spinning in a quick circle. It was just like ice skating, but indoors. With a giggle, she skidded into Pop's room and gripped the door jamb to catch herself from falling. She inhaled quietly as she crept in, the floor creaking beneath her feet. Pop was asleep in his bed, the sheets and a thick quilt covering his body. The little lamp on the night table was on, scattering pale light on him. As she tiptoed closer to him, she could see his lips moving. His hands twitched on top of the quilt and she reached out, slipping her hand into his larger one. "Pop?"

"Olivia?" he gasped as his eyes opened slowly and she leaned closer.

He said Nan's name a lot more now. "No, Pop," she said a little bit louder as she touched his shoulder. He couldn't see very well anymore, but he didn't like to wear his glasses. Dad said he was stubborn. His dark eyes stared back at her and she could tell he was confused. That happened a little bit when he woke up. Sometimes, she wasn't sure if he knew who she was. "It's me, Pop," she said softly, rubbing his shoulder.

A moment later, his eyes softened and he smiled tiredly. "Liv," he sighed and she nodded. "Did you have a good day at school?"

She nervously bit her lip, remembering what Mom told her. When Pop was confused, it was ok to pretend that he was right. But, that was the only time she was ever allowed to lie. "It was ok," she replied, repeating what she told him a few hours ago before dinner. "I was the first one in math class to finish today's challenge problem."

He smiled tiredly and weakly squeezed her hand. "That's my girl," he whispered as he closed his eyes again.

Liv watched as he fell back asleep, his chest rising and falling. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up, seeing Nan. But, Nan wasn't looking at her. She was looking down at the bed, a weird expression on her face. A bad feeling hurt in her stomach as she watched her and she asked in a whisper, "Nan?"

"Yes, darling?" Her voice was soft, barely there, but Liv could hear her just fine. She always could. Pop said it was a special gift they could see Nan and talk to her.

Her throat ached as she asked, "Is Pop hurting?"

Nan shook her head and finally looked down, a sad smile on her face. "No, darling. He isn't in pain."

She nodded and they turned back to watching Pop. She always liked the way Nan said _darling_. Once upon a time, she thought everyone would see Nan when they moved to London. That maybe they would all get to see her in their new house. But, after a while, she realized they couldn't. Only she and Pop could see her. She leaned back against her and sighed as they watched him sleep. "Promise, Nan?"

"I promise."

She frowned, another thought causing the ache in her stomach to grow. "Nan? Does- does it hurt to die?" There was a long beat of silence and she rolled her head back, looking up at her. Nan's face was still as she watched Pop sleep. She rubbed her arm, not wanting to wait for an answer now that she worked up the courage to ask her question. "Nan?"

She looked down and tilted her head slightly. "It won't hurt _him_." She turned back to the bed and Liv wondered if Nan could feel the tremor that went through her body.

"Is he asleep?"

Liv looked over at the doorway as Nana came in. Nana had the same smile as Nan. She was nervous about Pop too. Everyone was, but they tried to hide it from her, Patrick, and Maddie. She nodded as Nan moved into the corner of the room and Nana came closer. "He is," she whispered.

Nana nodded and reached out, tucking the quilt around Pop. She watched quietly as Nana's hand lingered on his cheek, but Pop stayed asleep. As Nana straightened up, she reached out and touched her arm. "Don't worry, Nana." She looked down, her blue eyes crinkled in confusion. "Pop isn't in pain."

She swallowed hard and nodded, blinking rapidly. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said softly. "I'm happy to know that." Liv smiled as Nana reached out, running her hand over her dark hair. She peeked over at the corner of the room and watched as Nan stood in the shadows, twisting the locket around her neck. "Let's let go back to the dining room and let Pop sleep. Ok?"

She nodded and let Nana guide her out of the room. She glanced behind her before she turned into the hallway, just in time to see Nan kneel next to the bed. And, she smiled as the ache in her stomach lessened. She knew Nan would protect Pop. She wouldn't let anything hurt him. She wouldn't let him be alone.

* * *

Olivia stepped out of the corner, watching as Caitlin led Liv from the quiet room. She felt their fear as they watched Gregory. It was clear to all of them that time was no longer on their side. Every moment was precious, an irreplaceable memory to be savored and held close. Everyone thought she had been the center of the family, but really, hadn't it been the _both_ of them? They had poured their hearts and souls into the lives of their children and grandchildren. Equally. It had never just been her love sustaining the family. Gregory had always loved them all just as hard and deep as she had. His eventual death was the one which would send a quake throughout their family. He was the one who went on to have a glorious second act with their children and grandchildren after her own death. He was the one who loved them all for the both of them after she was no longer physically there.

She sighed and kneeled next to the bed, resting her elbows on the mattress. He slept more often now. He couldn't play with Patrick and Maddie the way he played with Liv when she was their age. But, he hung on. She reached out, resting her hand over his heart. Still strong. She smiled as his eyes fluttered open. Slowly, his hand came up and rested heavily on hers. "Rest, darling," she whispered. "Just rest. I'm here."

She wanted to tell him about Trey. That he _finally_ saw her. That he looked right at her and called her _Mom_. But, that could wait until morning. He nodded weakly and closed his eyes again, asleep again as quickly as he woke. She stood slowly and closed her eyes briefly. When she re-opened them, she was lying next to him. On his left, the side she always took when they were married and shared a bed.

She glanced up at the lamp and, a moment later, the bulb switched off. Darkness surrounded them and she exhaled, his shoulder cushioning her head. Beyond the large windows, she could see the twinkling stars through the barren tree branches. She sighed, watching them for a long moment. She remembered the way Gregory stood next to her almost fifty years ago, his arm around her.

 _"What thoughts are you lost in?"_

 _"Oh…I'm just lost in the stars. It's such a beautiful night."_

She looked down, feeling the way his hands shook in his sleep. She wondered, not for the first time, what he dreamed of. She draped her arm across his chest and closed her eyes, turning her face into the hollow of his neck.

They must have been happy dreams if he could sleep so frequently.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to the soft and wrinkled flesh of his throat. Happy dreams. Of beautiful nights. Of stars. Of their family. After everything, he deserved happy dreams.

And, that gave her peace.

* * *

Caitlin hovered in the doorway of the living room, watching as Trey sat on the ottoman. He was hunched over his knees, gazing into the dancing flames of the fire. She tightened the belt of her robe and quietly crossed the room to him. He looked up when she placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The troubled expression on his face melted into a weak smile as their eyes met and he sat up. "Hi, Mom," he said softly as he made room for her on the ottoman.

She sighed deeply as she sat next to him and placed her hand in the middle of his back. He had brought her nothing but happiness. The child she so desperately wanted. The child she paid her former stepmother to get for her. She never regretted it. Not once. Her only child had fulfilled her life in ways she couldn't even dream. Trey was _more_ than she and Cole could have hoped for. "Forty-three," she mused and he grinned bashfully.

"It's…shit, I'm _old_ ," he chuckled.

She laughed softly, her hand rubbing a path down the length of his spine. When he was a child, it was the only way she could get him to fall asleep. It was something Mom had done with _her_ when she was a little girl. "It's something, isn't it?" she asked as he glanced over. "Life just goes…on. All those days that add up to you suddenly being forty-three. Then, you sit back and ask-"

"Where the time went," he concluded and she nodded. She wrapped her arm around him as he sighed deeply and turned back to the fire. "Liv will be a teenager before I know it. I think Patrick is going to be taller than me. And, Maddie…Jesus, that girl never stops."

She squeezed his shoulder. "They'll still be your babies when you look at them though." Her eyes fell away, thinking of her own parents. Even now, more than thirty years later, she could remember the panic on their faces when she saw them in the hospital after her brain surgery. The way Mom clung to Daddy's hand, her face awash with anguish. The way Daddy's eyes were soft and broken. They didn't see an adult woman in that hospital bed; they saw their pigtailed daughter. She knew because that's the way it was when she saw Trey. He wasn't the adult man with dark blonde hair that was speckled with gray. He was the small infant that Annie placed in her arms.

"Yeah."

The anxiety churning within him was so thick and palpable, she could almost reach out and touch it. She frowned and took his hand. "Daddy," she said simply. He nodded, but said nothing else. She bit her lip, watching the way his throat worked. "Uncle Sean wants to come," she said softly as he continued to watch the fire. "He wants to say good-"

"He doesn't have to ask." He turned to her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Everyone can come whenever they want to see Pop. That's always been the rule…and that doesn't change now."

She nodded, remembering her skepticism when Trey announced that her father would be moving in with him and Hadley. It was right after Mom died. She was concerned neither of them were thinking with a clear mind. Daddy was getting older and his health issues were increasing. Trey and Hadley had no idea what they were getting into, taking on Daddy and their own growing family. But, they had proved her wrong, hadn't they? Daddy had seamlessly blended into their family, the four of them forming the quickest family unit she had ever seen…at least since Daddy and Mom were married and _they_ were a unit. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, remembering how close her parents were in the last year of their marriage. When Mom was pregnant. When they were happy. When they were all a family. A _real_ family.

"I know what's coming," she heard him whisper and she opened her eyes slowly. Trey's face was so still, so serious. For a moment, it was as if Daddy was looking back at her. But, that was impossible. Trey was every inch Daddy's grandson except genetically. Her head jerked as she tried to nod. None of that mattered right now though. Her father was dying. Her throat tightened and she sniffed as she looked down, rubbing her son's back. With Mom's death, there was no warning. Just a grave phone call from Colin, her stepfather's voice shaking as he delivered the news. But, with Dad, it was the painful opposite. It was watching. It was waiting. It was knowing there was nothing you could do to stop the inevitable. "I'm worried about Liv," he continued and she could hear the tightness in his voice. "She and Pop…she's going to be devastated."

She nodded and reached up to squeeze the back of his neck. As her fingertips grazed his hair line, she sighed. "Yes," she whispered honestly, "but, you know what she told me when I went to check on them after dessert?" He looked up, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands. "She looked right up at me and said, 'Don't worry, Nana. Pop isn't in pain'." Her innocent little granddaughter couldn't have realized what a comfort her statement was to hear.

His sad smile made her heart rise into her throat as he sighed deeply. "That sounds like something she'd say."

She wrapped her arm around him and hugged him close as he leaned against her. "She and Daddy are like you and Nan," she said softly. Trey _adored_ her mother. It seems silly now to remember all the times Cole would complain about Trey being noticeably closer to her mother instead of Elaine. She was always secretly pleased with that turn. Nothing made her happier than seeing how excited her son would become in the days before Mom's visits. It was the way she herself had been as a child before her own grandparent's visits. But, her mother and Trey shared a bond that the thousands of miles between them could never break. It was what she had always wanted for her mother. _No one loves a little child like their grandmother. I_ _know_ _that's how it will be for you and Trey._ After the pain of losing her own child, she wanted her mother to be close to Trey. Not that Trey could ever take that baby's place, but he certainly filled the void in her mother's heart. The void in Daddy's heart too.

"I miss her," he murmured and she nodded. He looked up, a sad smile. "And, now with Pop…"

She looked down as he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was like losing her again. She squeezed his hand back as she whispered, "We'll be ok." She had to believe that. It was the only thing she could do. "Uncle Sean will be here tomorrow afternoon with Tessa. Tommy and the twins will be here the day after." He nodded and sat up, inhaling deeply. She saw his thought on his face. Everything would be real then. With the entire family there, it would all be real. "We'll be ok," she repeated.

He nodded and pushed himself up. She saw his age and sadness oozing throughout his posture. "I'm going to head up," he murmured, running his hand through his hair. "The next few days…"

She nodded as he trailed off into silence. "We'll be together," she said softly. "All of us. Together again."

"Yeah." He smiled, a genuine one, as he looked down at her. A tingling feeling crept up her spine as their eyes met. He looked as if he wanted to say something. It was how she knew he had decided to propose to Hadley. His eyes were brimming over and a smile twitched his lips. It was his Christmas morning face. As her lips parted to ask him what he was thinking, he said, "Nan and Pop always liked it when we were all together."

She beamed. "Yes. Yes, they did." This boy. She took his extended hand and stood. His arm went around her as they walked through the foyer and up the stairs. As the hardwood cracked and popped beneath them, she felt him kiss her head. "I love you, Trey," she whispered.

"I love you too, Mom."

THE END.


End file.
